


Herbie's Romantic Reunion

by ReymondStJames



Series: The Love Bug, The Series [4]
Category: Herbie (Movies)
Genre: Cars, Comedy, Friendship, Other, Racing, Romance, Series, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 16:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReymondStJames/pseuds/ReymondStJames
Summary: Herbie races right into love as he reunites with an old flame while at a track day weekend. He's not the only one finding love, as Roddy's friend Jackson also falls head over heels for a rowdy racer. Can Herbie pull off a date without a hitch, or will he find himself spun-out at romance? There's love in the air for the Love Bug!





	Herbie's Romantic Reunion

“Oh boy, won’t Herbie love that!? Le Mans; Monte Carlo! Thrill; glamour, da roar’a da crowd!”

 

It was the big “Race Day” weekend at Jackrabbit Springs, California, and the prairie dogs and rabbits that lived along the racetrack were none-too pleased with the enormous, roaring metal missiles that wove their way through the race-track’s precarious, sweeping turns. Modern sports cars found themselves brushing fenders with super-modified tuner cars; their exhausts howled and mixed in the desert air, as each seemed hell-bent on driving into oblivion. However, there was one exception to the field; a little white streak that wove its way through the crowded field. With a kick of dust, the little car took one black Porsche sports car on the outside, then dived in like a kamikaze in front of two cars to overtake them as they flew into a tight left-hand turn.

 

Roddy Garcia chewed on a piece of gum in his mouth as he led his little Volkswagen Beetle through the pack, clad in a royal blue racing suit and matching helmet. His booted feet stomped on the VW-print pedals and his right hand yanked the thin gear stick into position several times, as the sound of the car’s pounding four-cylinder engine roared from the rear, propelling the classic car to impossible speeds past Ferraris, McLarens, and whatever the modern world could throw at him. After all, this was Herbie’s home turf, out on the raceways and beating the competition six ways to Sunday. It was almost like yesterday to the little car that he was racing Corvettes with Jim Douglas at the helm, but now he was pleased to give his new, younger owner, a chance to prove his worth.

 

As the Beetle whipped through the last corner before the big straightaway, Herbie was now level with a modified Subaru sedan that sparkled with dark blue paint. Its enormous, blued exhaust blatted away like a deep trumpet, tempting any racer to try and challenge its speed and handling. Roddy felt he met that challenge and quickly dropped Herbie into a lower gear, Herbie’s engine whining with the strain as his driver pressed down on the gas and stayed at the Subaru’s rear. After passing turns one, two, and three, Roddy suddenly cut the wheel left and surged Herbie forward on the inside of a tight left-hand turn. The Subaru driver’s jaw dropped as Herbie cut in front into a quick right turn, forcing the driver to brake hard, his own discs glowing red and smoking. 

 

“Nice job, Herbie.” Roddy complimented his car, “Now, let’s take this home.” 

 

With a triumphant beep, Herbie shot like a bullet through the wavy sweeper-turn, his thick Firestone tires squealing as they strained against the tarmac. With ease, Herbie overtook every car in front of him by the last turn and then, with one smooth manipulation of his wheel, directed himself into the pit lane where Roddy’s friends, Charlie Padalecki and Jackson Furse, were waiting. The Subaru also pulled over to the side after Herbie and came to a stop right behind him, where two other people loudly greeted his return. As the bug came to a stop, Jackson flung Herbie’s hood open and got to work filling his gas tank, while Charlie offered Roddy a bottle of water and a cloth to mop up his sweat. The Subaru driver managed to yank himself out of his car and approach Herbie, pulling his helmet off and brushing his sweat-soaked hair out of his tan face.

 

“Dude, what the hell was that!?” Roddy’s friend Eric shouted over the din of the engines, gobsmacked by Herbie’s performance.

 

“Yeah, man!” Jose yelled back, sitting on the hood of his parked Mitsubishi Evo sedan, “Your little bug moved like a supercar out there!” The mid-twenties Latino reached for a soda from the cooler and popped it open, cooling off from the heat.

 

“Oh, it’s nothing big.” Roddy humbly said, “Just a few adjustments here and there.”

 

“Was he running smooth all the way out?” Jackson asked as he finished topping off Herbie’s tank, screwing in the cap and shutting the bug’s hood.

 

“Absolutely.” Roddy nodded, then paused to drink from his bottle. After drinking half, he handed it back to Charlie, “All the bugs are gone; he’s honestly in pretty good shape.”

 

“Dude, after seeing that beat my car,” Eric reverently exclaimed, “I gotta give you props, man.” The young latino offered his fist to Roddy, who fistbumped him back.

 

“Gonna take him out for one more run, Rod?” Charlie asked as she sat down on a lawn chair she brought with herself, announcing “I’m feeling a bit hungry right now.”

 

“Yeah, same here! My stomach’s been growling, man!” Lee piped up from his spot, sitting on the hood of his Honda S2000 coupe. The Chinese twenty-something had already dispensed with his black “Anti-Social Social Club” hoodie and was now in a “Special.”-branded tank top to cool off too.

 

“Of course,” Roddy said as he adjusted his seat in Herbie, “One more lap and then we can break for lunch.” 

 

“Sweet!” Jackson said as he cleared out of Herbie’s way, urging the two, “Now go get ‘em!” Herbie beeped and sped away down the pit lane, as Roddy tried to rein in his car to keep him from crashing into another car moving in front of them. 

 

(o\ ! /o)

 

A little while later, with the sun at its hottest and brightest in the noontime sky, the six car enthusiasts were sitting by their cars just off the pit lane, having given their spot to another car to use for a while. Everyone had the usual trackday fare consumed at events like these: hot dogs, shakes, hamburgers, and fries. Roddy was seated on Herbie’s front hood, his leg up on the thin bumper overriders; Charlie was in her lawn chair, up against Herbie to take advantage of the shade; Jackson was sitting on a stack of Herbie’s road tires, and the rest of the tuners were sitting against Jose’s Mitsubishi Evo. As they ate, Roddy decided now was a good time to talk.

 

“Hey, Jose,” He called out in-between bites of his hamburger, “Thanks for inviting us out here.”

 

“Oh, anytime.” Jose replied as he sipped his shake, “Honestly, these things are always fun for big groups.”

 

“Heck yeah,” Charlie agreed, “Honestly just watching these cars going around’s really fun; love all the funky designs people paint them up with.”

 

“We’ve been coming out here for four years now.” Lee stated as he munched on his fries, “It’s not all about competition, just driving around and feeling good doing it.”

 

“Hear, hear.” Jackson replied as he ate his hotdog, “Makes me feel like a real crew chief too.”

 

As they talked, Charlie noticed from the corner of her eye, an angular car with thick bumpers and odd wheels roll past behind the group. The car was light blue with yellow stripes down the side, and it reminded her of a car from that one time travel movie she watched with Roddy and Jackson one time. Calling Roddy’s attention over, she pointed to the car.

 

“Hey Rod,” She asked, lowering her sunglasses as she pointed, “What’s that car over there?” Roddy got up and stood on Herbie’s hood, as the tuners stood up to look.

 

“Why, that looks like a Lancia.” Roddy replied, “Some defunct Italian brand, their cars were nice but had so many mechanical problems.”

 

“Or problems in general!” Jackson butt in. 

 

At the sound of the word “Lancia”, Herbie suddenly jerked backwards with his engine revving loudly. Roddy lost his grip on Herbie’s rounded hood and suddenly fell forward, slamming chest-first into the ground with his racing helmet saving him from any injury. Jackson and Charlie were to their feet as Herbie backed into the crowd that followed the Lancia in and disappeared.

 

“What the hell was all that about?” Roddy groaned as he stumbled to his feet, taking his helmet off to rub at his aching, ringing head.

 

“I don’t know.” Charlie replied as she checked Roddy over, then asked, “Are you ok?”

 

“Just about.” Roddy nodded to her. He looked into her eyes for just a millisecond longer before he found his bearings again and said, “Come on, let’s go find where he went.”

 

Herbie drifted through the crowd, revving his engine and beeping to avoid running anyone over. The crowd split in two as the little Beetle drove forward to where the crowd was at its thickest. As the little beetle parted the crowd, he came across the Lancia and stopped. A young woman with dirty blond hair and a casual summer top and skirt was already out of the driver’s seat and taking a wheelchair out of the car’s front trunk. Her grandmother was sitting in the passenger seat, watching as the young woman unfolded the wheelchair and pushed it over to the passenger side. She pulled the door open gently and helped her grandmother into the chair, which she sank into with a sigh.

 

“Oh, thank you Denise.” She said, looking proudly at her granddaughter, “That feels good.”

 

“No problem, grandma.” Denise replied, slipping her sunglasses down her nose slightly, “But was the racing suit really necessary?” The old woman looked down at the fireproof jumpsuit she was wearing through her long, flowing orange-grey hair, then back up at her granddaughter.

 

“Absolutely,” She said with a smile, “You always gotta wear this at a racetrack.”

 

“Grandma, I know that.” Denise smiled back as she closed the door to the Lancia. 

 

As the door shut, the old woman saw a little Volkswagen poking through the crowd. Immediately, memories forty years ago began coursing through her aged mind. She had seen the little car before, with the red-white-and-blue stripes and the big “53” gumballs clear as the day when she used to race against that car. 

 

“Denise,” She said gently, pointing over to Herbie, “Get me over to that car, please. I think I’ve just found an old friend.”

 

Denise dutifully pushed up her wheelchair over to the little car as the crowd watched in awe; some people even filming it on their smartphones. Jackson, Roddy, and Charlie managed to push through the crowd in time to see the old woman lay her left hand on Herbie’s bumper and give it a squeeze.

 

“Hello, Herbie,” She said, tears in her eyes as she greeted him, “I know you don’t recognize me, but I remember you very vividly.” Herbie’s headlights swiveled from the Lancia to focus on the old woman, and in his little bug brain, he knew who he was talking to. He raised his front up on his suspension to meet her hand and blushed, which cued Roddy to step in and get some questions answered.

 

“Uh, excuse me.” He said, prefacing his words with a small bow, “I’m Roddy Garcia and I’m sorry that my car, uh, disturbed you.”

 

“That is completely fine, young man.” The old woman nodded as she pet Herbie’s bumper, “This little car and I go way back, so I have no problems.” 

 

“You do?” Roddy said, in awe, as he approached to shake her hand, “You were a race car driver?”

 

“In her head, she still is.” Denise butted in, a sly smirk on her face as she looked down at her race-suited grandma. Roddy looked down at her white suit with three black stripes on each shoulder, and raised his eyebrows.

 

“I guess you are.” He said, impressed.

 

“That’s right.” She replied, pointing at her granddaughter, “That’s my granddaughter, Denise, and I’m Diane Darcy.” She then gestured to her Lancia, adding, “And that is Giselle, my priceless heirloom.”

 

After hearing her name, the Lancia flipped her headlights up and the crowd oohed and ahhed. Herbie peeked over and found Giselle looking at him, causing the bug’s front hood to blush even redder. Roddy noticed and gently patted Herbie’s fender, having never seen the bug so flustered and lovestruck in the three weeks he had owned him.

 

“I didn’t know there were other living cars,” He said, unable to take his eyes off Giselle’s front. The concept returned him to his old Honda coupe, and Roddy briefly wondered if the car hated him for abandoning it.

 

“Oh yes,” Diane said, “I guess some of Herbie gave Giselle life and they ended up in love in Paris.” She laughed, all the memories coming back to her.

 

“Yeah, it’s weird living with Giselle,” Denise added, “But she’s cool. I learned how to drive in that car.”

 

“You drive too?” Roddy asked, glancing up at her.

 

“Oh yeah, I do karting mostly.” She replied, “I’m trying to get into Indycar.”

 

“That’s really cool!” He grinned. In his own little human brain, Roddy was ready to network with other drivers he saw as “professional.” After recomposing himself, he continued, “I’m trying to get into rally driving myself. What’s it like in karting?”

 

“It’s ok,” She shrugged, “Now, how did you get ahold of Uncle Jim’s car?”

 

“‘Uncle’ Jim?” He wondered, realizing that Denise would have probably called him a grand-uncle instead, then realized, “Oh, Jim Douglas. Well, when I found him, Jim was already... gone. I met his wife Carole through a Craigslist ad and she said she wanted Herbie to go to a good home. I admit, I was surprised by all the trophies but, after driving him, I could see why he won all those races.”

 

“Jim died…?” Diane fixed upon what he said, “I honestly did not know. Last I heard, he was in good health a year or two ago, maybe three.” She paused and momentarily closed her eyes. When she opened them, she replied, “He was a good man, a good owner to Herbie, and a good driver.”

 

“Absolutely,” Denise nodded, “It’s thanks to him I got into karting at all. Being a race car driver must be like a rockstar or something, especially with that win record. It’s such a shame he died, wish my grandma and I knew sooner.”

 

“His multitude of trophies don’t lie.” Roddy chuckled. He then looked back to his friends and finally introduced them, “Oh yeah, those are my friends, Jackson and Charlie.”

 

“Hi.” Charlie said, waving at Diane even though her eyes were focused on Denise.

 

“H-hi…” Jackson stammered, unable to stop himself from staring at Denise. Her luscious golden locks, that serious look on her face, the fact she did karting; all signs were pointing towards her being “the one” for him. He then shook his head, figuring that a pro karter wouldn’t fall for him instantly.

 

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Diane replied, “Now let’s get me ready to race. I didn’t come all this way to see all you young folk enjoy yourselves!” The crowd erupted in a small cheer as Denise pushed her grandma’s wheelchair towards the nearest bathroom. As the crowd dispersed, a few stayed behind to take pictures of Herbie and Giselle together, while Roddy and Charlie decided to pull Herbie away for now.

 

“Come on, Herbie.” Roddy grunted as he pushed on Herbie’s door pillar, realizing how hard it was to be pushing such a light car.

 

“You can see your girlfriend later!” Charlie added, pulling on Herbie’s rear bumper, “For now, you gotta make room for the other cars!”

 

“Where’s Jackson!?” Roddy grunted as he gave another hard shove to Herbie’s pillar, pushing him back.

 

“I think…” Charlie panted as she gave another tug, “He’s in love; he was… watching Denise walk away!”

 

“What a… weirdo!” Roddy replied as he and Charlie finally got Herbie back to his pit paddock, where Jose, Eric, and Lee were all waiting.

 

“Yo, you guys were gone for a while.” Lee stated, sipping on his drink, “What took you?”  
  
“This is gonna sound weird,” Roddy explained, “But Herbie just met his old girlfriend.”

 

“Ooooh!” cried the Tuners simultaneously.  
  
“We got a Love Bug over here.” Eric grinned, noticing Herbie blushing with embarrassment.

 

“What a player.” Jose added, nudging Herbie’s side and saying, “Hey, treat her good, bro. If she’s a Lancia, she’s a damn keeper!” As everyone joined in the good-natured laughter, Herbie blushed even redder as he saw Jackson finally rejoin the group. Seeing everyone laughing made the lovestruck park ranger confused, then awkwardly joined in the laughter until it died down with an awkward silence.

 

“And where were you?” Roddy wondered, facing Jackson.

 

“Uhhh,” He guessed in reply, “Just… looking at the cars?” 

 

“Sure.” Charlie and Roddy responded, the two sharing a look.

 

(o\ ! /o)

 

After Diane was race-prepped from the bathroom, Denise wheeled her over to Giselle. Diane carefully stood up and held a hand on the Lancia’s flat surfaces for support; she walked slowly past the door and Giselle was courteous in opening it for the old woman. With some mild effort, Diane sank into her car’s bucket seat and let her feet find the pedals. After slipping her helmet on, she turned the key and revved up Giselle’s six-cylinder engine with a roar. A smile flashed across her face as her car opened up her headlights and backed up into the pit row. As Giselle drove past, Herbie sighed and lowered down on his suspension dreamily, while Roddy was amazed that Diane could still race at her age.

 

“Maybe she still remembers some old tricks,” He thought to himself, “Once you start racing, I guess you never really forget.”

 

Roddy’s thoughts were answered as soon as Giselle got to the end of the pit lane. Diane checked her blind spot and found all the newer sports cars and tuner builds roaring past her at a blinding speed, as Giselle shut her headlights back down. Roddy wondered how they were going to get up to speed at a crawl like that, when suddenly the Lancia let out a loud roar as her ties dug into the asphalt. Diane grinned and shifted Giselle into a higher gear as the Italian coupe shot away like a rocket. Roddy and Herbie gasped as both stood up higher to watch.

 

Giselle moved through the pack with ease, with Diane weaving her in and out and driving her into the inner corners. Even though she was pushing eighty, her reflexes were still sharp as a tack as Diane shifted through each gear with a solid “clunk”, while Giselle’s tires squealed through the sweeper turns as she overtook a McLaren and a Mustang. Down the main straight, Herbie bounced with excitement as Giselle shot past, and even Roddy was feeling his excitement as he grabbed his helmet from Herbie’s passenger seat.

 

“I guess the old woman’s still got it!” He whooped as he slipped his head inside and climbed into Herbie. After doing up all of his safety gear, Roddy got Jackson to lead him out of the paddock. 

 

As soon as Herbie hit pit lane, Roddy fought Herbie’s brake pedal to keep the little car from exceeding the speed limit. But right at the end, Herbie suddenly reared up into a wheelie and threw Roddy back from his brakes. With tire squeal and lots of smoke, Herbie surged forward into the pack and cut across a Miata taking the first corner, causing it to skid into the gravel. Roddy was caught without his breath when Herbie did his wheelie, but after catching it, he wrenched the wheel and whipped Herbie into a corner.

 

“Easy there, man!” Roddy yelped as he found control of Herbie, “You’ll be able to catch up to her soon enough, let’s just not take out other racers, please?” After getting a beep of confirmation, Roddy nodded and downshifted Herbie as they went through the sweeper once more, showing up every performance car they passed.

 

Giselle was still in front when Herbie finally caught up behind her, roaring down the main straight. The two classic cars were now running single-file through the turns, Herbie never letting up behind Giselle once. Diane looked in her rearview to see Herbie and smiled, almost seeing Jim behind the wheel once more. Roddy had no time to look and appreciate, as Herbie was so focused on Giselle, he was not in control anymore. Through every turn, Roddy fought to keep Herbie right behind the Lancia, his hands and feet working overtime to stay on the track.

 

“How does she make this look so easy?” He thought to himself, feeling the sweat coming down the side of his head.

 

Diane simply made it look easy because she was used to it, the septuagenarian leading Giselle through the final turn with one hard brake. Roddy saw her brake suddenly and,instead of stomping on Herbie’s brakes, took the corner outside and swerved past Giselle on her left. The crowd cheered once Herbie had passed, while Giselle opened her headlights again to be greeted by Herbie’s rear end. The little car flashed his tail-lights at her and Giselle responded with two flashes from her headlights, coming to a mutual agreement. After one more cool-down lap, the two cars entered the pitlane.

 

As Diane led Giselle behind Herbie, she noticed that her Lancia’s brake pedal was not engaging the brakes. Tapping the pedal again and again, she looked down in confusion as Giselle glided past the crowd of drivers and enthusiasts taking her picture. Denise was busy talking to a clearly-shy Jackson when she turned her head to see her grandmother about to rear-end a now-stopped Herbie. Her eyes widened as she got up from her seat and immediately leapt into action.

 

“Come on!” She yelled to Jackson.

 

“O-okay!” He stammered back, following her lead as the crowd began to recognize the danger as well.

 

Giselle shut her headlights and Diane braced for impact as Jackson and Denise ran over. Gathering on Giselle’s left side, the two grabbed her front and rear fenders and began to pull hard. Other stronger members of the crowd ran up and tugged on the Lancia’s rear bumper, their efforts paying off as Giselle finally stopped just an inch behind Herbie’s own rear bumper. Noticing the crowd behind them, Roddy stepped out of Herbie and saw Jackson and Denise huffing for breath, while Diane was still looking confused. He removed his helmet and quickly shook his head.

 

“What happened?” He wondered, seeing Giselle pop her headlights open again.

 

“I don’t know,” Diane said as she opened her door, “One minute, her brakes were doing fine; the next, I couldn’t stop.”

 

“Is this… the first time it’s happened?” Jackson panted as he turned to face her.

 

“Not really,” She replied as Denise set her wheelchair by the door. After slipping onto it, she removed her helmet and continued, “My first race with Jim in France, I had brake failure there too. I actually almost drowned, had it not been for Herbie coming back.”

 

“It’s happened to me too,” Denise added, “Many times I had to use the handbrake to brake Giselle when learning to drive. I even learned how to fix them.”

 

“Well, would you mind if I… looked at it?” Jackson offered, putting on his best professional face to Denise, “I know a little bit of fixing problematic cars on the side; after all, I drive an old G-Wagen.”

 

“Problematic?” Denise raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, “You calling my grandma’s car ‘problematic’?” Herbie growled at Jackson, while Giselle shut her headlights, clearly offended.

 

“Err, no!” Jackson tried to save face, “I mean, like, I know car problems like these with my own rig, so I… Uh…” His voice trailed off as his face burned bright red, looking down at the tarmac in embarrassment.

 

“Denise,” Diane called, “Let the young man do his thing. If he’s able to help, so be it, but don’t scare him away! I did that when I was your age and, oof, I do regret it.” 

 

“Mmm, fine.” Denise shrugged, “If you think you know how to fix up Giselle, I can let you push.”

 

Jackson got in position behind Giselle’s rear bumper and began pushing, with help from Denise and Roddy. Herbie stayed at the Lancia’s side and gently nudged her to keep her company as the Lancia was wheeled into place at the paddock. After Giselle had her parking brake applied, Jackson stumbled away to go get his toolbox from the pitlane. Denise watched as the lanky man crawled under the car and began his inspection, while Diane made company with Roddy, Charlie, and the tuners to pass the time.

 

“We’re sorry about your car, ma’am.” Jose said, offering her a soda.

 

“No need to be sorry, boys.” Diane smiled as she declined, “That car’s carried so many of my hopes and dreams that I’d do anything for her.”

 

“If it helps, Mrs. Darcy,” Roddy offered politely, “Would you like to have dinner at my family’s restaurant after this? I figured it’d also give our cars a chance for some time alone.” 

 

“I think that would be wonderful, Roddy.” Diane nodded, “Thank you.”

 

“So, you sure you know what you’re doing?” Denise asked Jackson as she watched his legs writhe and kick under Giselle.

 

“Sure do.” He said back, feeling around the car’s undercarriage, “I know for a fact these models had super-sticky brake servos. Lancia got around fixing it by instead… removing the servos.” He grunted, then said, “I think… that is the problem.” Reaching his hand out, he beckoned, “Come down here.” As Denise took his hand, Jackson felt his heart flutter. Denise then joined him on her back, looking up at Giselle’s underside.

 

“So what’s the issue?” She wondered, breaking Jackson out of his stupor.

 

“Well, uh,” He began, clearing his throat to look less flustered, “I did look at the brake servo and it looks like your grandma might have run over a small stone.” He pointed the part out to her; indeed, the brake servo had a massive dent in it that led to a small hole. “What happened was air leaked out and your grandma couldn’t depress the pedal hard enough to engage the brakes.”

 

“Wow, that’s... Really cool you know that.” Denise said, impressed, “Got a way to patch it?”

 

“I can repair the leak with duct tape temporarily, but I’d probably also advise no hard braking.” He replied, turning to look at her. The two shared a quiet moment of connection before they suddenly blinked and looked back at the servo.

 

“So, uh, duct tape?” Denise said quickly, blushing.

 

“Y-yeah.” Jackson replied, blushing right back. As Denise went to go tell Diane of Giselle’s prognosis, he suddenly rose up and banged his head on Giselle’s chassis, making him scream, “OW!” 

 

“That’s good to hear.” Diane said after Denise told her everything, “Hopefully it will hold until we get home, because Roddy here has invited us for dinner.”

 

“Oh, neato.” Denise nodded, “Just lead the way, dude.”

 

“Of course.” Roddy replied; in his mind, though, he thought, “Wow, she fell in love with that dork.”

 

(o\ ! /o)

 

Later that evening, a dusty Herbie and Giselle arrived at the Bicol Express and came to a stop at the parking lot. The restaurant was busy as it was the weekend, so the parking lot was full of cars down to the sidewalk. Roddy and Jackson were the first to get out of Herbie, then they helped Diane out of the Lancia’s passenger seat as Denise pulled the wheelchair out from the trunk and snapped it open. As the group began towards the restaurant, Diane waved her hand to let Jackson and Denise go first and pulled Roddy aside to face their two cars.

 

“Alright, you two,” She began, “While we’re having dinner, Roddy and I are going to give you two some time together.”

 

“That’s right.” Roddy nodded, putting his hands behind his back, “You two get two hours to do whatever you want close by, but you gotta be back here in time and no getting into trouble.” Herbie looked innocent, his big sealed-beam headlights staring at his owner. “Also, if you do want a nice place…” Roddy paused and looked up momentarily at the darkening orange sky, then continued, “Mulholland Drive’s nice around this time, good views of Studio City.” He then patted Herbie’s hood and took hold of Diane’s wheelchair as he finished, “Stay safe you two.”

 

Herbie watched as Roddy walked away with Diane, then turned to look over at Giselle. Her big round headlights looked quite cute in the evening light. Feeling the urge to blush again, Herbie moved forward and flashed his taillights at Giselle, urging her to follow him. Flashing her headlights in kind, the two dirty race cars left the parking lot to start their date. However, Herbie didn’t feel quite ready just yet. The constant racing out in the desert had left his shining pearl white paint grimy with dust, and he was also certain a bird thought his rear window was good as a toilet. Giselle was similarly grimy, suspension full of caked dust and her paint dulled by layer after layer of grime. 

 

The two cars wandered through East Los Angeles for a while until Herbie found a machine car wash on a street corner by the freeway. Giselle saw his taillights blinked and honked in response. The car wash was already closing up with its last few customers, but Herbie thought two more cars would not be noticed. As they lined up by the vacuum hoses, Herbie gestured his tire forward and let Giselle go first. The Lancia curtseyed on her suspension and Herbie met her bow back, then the two giggled through their horns before Giselle rolled forward.

 

As her rear tire moved into the slot, she was suddenly pushed forward into the wash. Rollers and scrubbers and squirters attacked her from all over, washing away all the grime and leaving Giselle feeling rejuvenated as her dirty blue was restored to a gleaming robin’s egg hue by the neon lights. One of the nozzles even cleaned her undercarriage, and Giselle couldn’t help but feel something weird as she rolled off the nozzle and under the blow dryer, shaking some excess water out of her cracks and crevices. 

 

After watching Giselle go through, it was now Herbie’s turn to get scrubbed. The bug sighed in relief, sinking down on his suspension as he was pushed along and getting all the grime washed out from all over him too. Upon reaching the chassis nozzle, the sudden burst of water underneath him made Herbie jump and cling upside-down to the polishing stage’s frame. Hearing Giselle laughing at him from outside forced the Beetle back down onto his wheels, where he was collected by another pusher device and run under the dryer. Upon seeing his girlfriend look beautiful in the evening sky, Herbie emitted a wolf-whistle from his horn. Now that they both looked their best, their date could really begin.

 

Mulholland Drive was a winding mountain road that skirted the skyline over Los Angeles, separating the movie studios of Burbank and Studio City with the glamorous bright lights of the theaters and playhouses down Hollywood Boulevard. The road was always popular with drivers looking to push their cars to the limit, and each side gave gorgeous views of the San Fernando Valley from unpaved sections of run-off road overlooking the houses. As Herbie and Giselle began the ascent, Herbie was very careful not to lose sight of his girlfriend. Leading the way, he swerved in and out of the curves rising from the Cahuenga Pass at a stately thirty miles an hour, just enjoying their time together. Giselle, on the other hand, had other ideas and on the next hairpin turn, the Lancia suddenly ducked to the left and took the curve’s inside, easily passing Herbie. The stunned Volkswagen figured she wanted to have a little more fun than just a cruise and chased after her.

 

Up ahead, a roofless van was giving nighttime tours of celebrity homes at a very slow pace. The grinning, blonde tour guide up front was giving her spiel to the rather bored tourists, unaware of what was coming up behind them.

 

“And if you’ll look to your right,” She announced into her tinny speaker strapped to her hip, “You can seewhere actor Dean Jones used to live. Now, over here on my left is…” 

 

Her voice softened as her eyes looked beyond the van to two sets of headlights flashing behind her. A low roar of engines was also getting close as well, making the van driver stop momentarily. Upon rounding the curve, Herbie was chasing after Giselle at a lightning pace, the two suddenly whipping by the tour van and making it tip slightly to the left. The blond tour guide yelled into her microphone, afraid the two cars would hit them, and the loud noise woke everyone up in their seats.

 

“Hey, where are we!?” One tourist shouted from the back, as the tour guide made sure to turn her radio down.

 

The two cars continued their way up the sparsely-populated Mulholland Drive. With each hard brake Giselle was doing, she could feel something funny going on under her again. What she did not know was that the undercarriage wash had also wettened the duct tape covering the hole in her brake servo and softened it up. Every time she braked, the vacuum in the servo would suck in the tape, a little at a time. It was only a matter of time before the tape came off altogether.

 

As they blasted through the intersection at Coldwater Canyon, Herbie managed to take the lead out of the comfy Lancia’s grasp. Herbie flashed his tail lights tauntingly and surged forward, leaving Giselle to eat his dust. Undaunted, the Lancia downshifted and roared up the hill like a missile. Halfway up, Giselle passed Herbie and hooted her horn back as a battle taunt, and Herbie flashed his headlights in mock-protest, enjoying letting his girlfriend take the lead again. At the top of the hill, Giselle suddenly braked as it led into a tight left-hand turn. The hard braking soon led to a sharp “SLUMP!” as the duct tape finally gave way and was sucked into the servo hole. 

 

Giselle came out of the curve much faster than she thought she would and she tried to put her brakes on. Again and again she tried, but it was no use; her brakes were jammed! She could not even use her handbrake either, lest her rear axle fishtail wildly and fling her off the mountain instead. The fun quickly turned to fear as Herbie watched Giselle slip faster and faster away from him, both careening downhill at a tremendous rate. Realizing something was wrong, the little car shifted into the lowest gear he could and revved his engine loudly to catch up with her. Herbie then tilted his front bumper forward and tried his best to bridge the gap, intending to hook Giselle’s rear bumper onto his front and catch her that way, but he was running out of time.

 

Each tight turn felt harrowing to the Lancia, threatening to throw her off into the hillside houses below. One particularly tight and blind curve had a run-off point that could best be described as a dirt ramp. The rough embankment angled up sharply on the side of the road, and to the right was a wooden fence lining part of it, and a steel barrier on the left. Between them was a gap big enough for a car to pass in between the fencing and into the valley below. As it was getting darker, nobody could tell how deep the valley went, but it meant certain death should anyone sail through.

 

Giselle was still a runaway as she entered the curve just before the run-off. Herbie took no chances and thundered right through as well, getting so close to catching Giselle that he finally managed to hook his bumper under hers. Giselle yelped in surprise and Herbie put all the force he had into his brakes, his tires screaming up the road as he fought to stop Giselle. The force of the stop nearly took his own bumper off, and the two cars ran into the runoff while still fighting to stop. Giselle shut her headlights in fear, throwing what Herbie could see into darkness, so all he had was the sudden jolt of Giselle coming to a halt to tell him that he had saved his girlfriend. 

 

The Lancia opened her headlights to behold dust clouds drifting past them from Herbie’s tired treads. Upon looking around, she suddenly found herself near-falling from the cliff and shut them again, wailing her buzzy horn and squirting washer fluid into her windshield as if to cry. Herbie realized what was going on and quickly pulled Giselle off the cliff and back onto firm ground. As he let her roll to a stop, Giselle yanked on her parking brake at last and stood still, her headlights off and still wiping water from her windshield. Herbie rolled up alongside her right side and gave the Lancia a gentle nuzzle against her right fender, making her open her headlights again.

 

Giselled leaned into their cuddle and sighed happily from her exhaust, feeling relieved to be with Herbie. The two cars then rolled up to just peek over the cliff and look out at the sparkling lights of Studio City. Herbie turned on some romantic music on his radio and cocked his driver’s door open slightly to touch Giselle’s passenger door. It was there the two cars stayed for quite some time, happy to have each other and spend time together once more. In Herbie’s mind, it really was the perfect date.

 

Back at the Bicol Express, Roddy, Jackson, Denise and Diane were waiting outside for their cars. It was 10 o’clock at night and Roddy’s mother Cora was closing up the restaurant, telling her son that she would see him at home. After watching her go, Roddy checked his cellphone one more time.

 

“They should have been back an hour ago.” He said, turning the brightness down on his phone.

 

“Maybe they’re just off having a good time.” Diane nodded.

 

“Gives us more time to set up a date.” Denise said, turning to Jackson who was doing his best to look everywhere but at Denise.

 

“Who, me?” He managed to choke out, “I uh, heh, I didn’t know we were-” A finger suddenly pressed against his lips.

 

“No more talking; we’re just gonna fix cars together.” Denise smiled, and Jackson nodded in reply, a similar smile on his face.

 

“Speaking of fixing cars,” Roddy commented, “About time you two showed up!”

 

Herbie and Giselle finally rolled across the intersection and into the parking lot, with Giselle hooked onto Herbie’s rear bumper. Diane was briefly shocked, but relieved, while Denise, Jackson, and Roddy were all confused by Herbie deciding to pull his girlfriend in like a tow truck. The little car gave no explanation, preferring to act casual as their owners gathered around. Upon investigation, both Jackson and Denise found the jammed servo was to blame and decided that for safety’s sake, it would be best to have Giselle sleep at Roddy’s place while Jackson took the Darcys home.

 

“You sure that’s ok?” Jackson confirmed to Denise.

 

“That’s fine.” Denise nodded, “So long as my grandma and I have a ride to Huntington Beach from here. We just moved so everything's still kinda new.”

 

“Just make sure my girl is fixed too!” Diana smiled, gently petting Giselle’s hood, “I can’t live without this fantastic car.”

 

Roddy shook his head and chuckled as he gently petted Herbie’s hood, adding, “You’re not the only one, Mrs. Darcy.”

 

As the group piled into their cars for the night, Herbie flashed some morse code to Giselle through his taillights: “I. LOVE. YOU.” It was Giselle’s turn to blush, and she was lucky Herbie couldn’t see it as her boyfriend pulled the limping Lancia home. Love was certainly in the air for the little race cars, and they were glad that distance and time had not quelled their love  one bit.

 

(o\The End/o)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if you're reading this, thanks a lot for checking out my story. I hope you enjoy my work plenty, and I promise you new episodes every Monday, far as I can see! Also, thank you for keeping the spirit of Herbie alive. As usual, Herbie and any related imagery are copyright Walt Disney Pictures and Buena Vista Productions. 
> 
> Proofread by my special someone, Atticus van Astikatus.


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